


A Dying World

by disarmlow



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Carol being Carol, Daryl being Daryl, Drabble, F/M, I can't even, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, They're so fucking adorable, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:03:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmlow/pseuds/disarmlow
Summary: He saw her across a sea of dead and rotting bodies, the stench of death all around him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So here's what happened. I saw a fic challenge and I got inspired but I didn't follow the rules like, AT ALL. I got caught up in my feelings, ok?
> 
> Basically it was one of those shuffle a Spotify playlist and write drabbles based on songs. You were supposed to pick ONE fandom/pairing, but hahaha yeah no I can't choose among my OTPs, so there will be more of these in like a million fandoms.
> 
> This is the first time I've written Caryl or any TWD fic, basically because my sister muchmoxie is the best Caryl writer ever and I'm ashamed. Anyway, here it is.
> 
> The song was Saturn by Sleeping at Last.

He would like to say that he didn’t think of her in the months, years they were apart.

He wasn’t thinking of her when he finally saw her again, that much was true. He was high on adrenaline, shooting arrow after arrow, counting his headshots with pride.  
The one damn thing in life he was good at was killing walkers.

He saw her across a sea of dead and rotting bodies, the stench of death all around him. The sun backlit her features, her graying hair the only bright thing along the blacktop. She smiled at him, once, and the breath he took in hurt his lungs, as if he were still smoking three packs of Camels a day.

He came toward him and he didn't move. She got close, uncomfortably close, because that was what she did.

“Hey you,” She said, as if she had seen him yesterday instead of God knows how long ago. As if he hadn’t believed her dead. As if they hadn’t left everything unsaid and undone when she left, clutching her guilt around her like a shroud.

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to shout at her, ask her who in the hell she thought she was, to act as if everything were all right. He couldn’t do anything but breathe in that way that hurt in his ribs and chest.

She cocked her head and placed her hand on his arm, the one holding the crossbow still ready, as if he meant to shoot her in the head like so many walkers.

He dropped it and opened his mouth to speak. She crushed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his bloodied neck, her fingers in his greasy hair, and among the dying world around them, he came to life again.

When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “You okay?” she asked hoarsely, still smiling.

“Gotta be,” he choked out, because it was all he could say. It was all there was to say.

When he kissed her this time, she laughed against his mouth, and he thought that if the whole world had to die in order to find her, he’d burn it down all over again.


End file.
